


A Thousand Memories

by nothing_rhymes_with_ianto



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_rhymes_with_ianto/pseuds/nothing_rhymes_with_ianto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack finds a photograph in Ianto's flat. Post-CoE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Memories

It’s only on the second week back in Cardiff, back in Ianto’s flat, that Jack starts to wander about the house. Really, the first thing he does is open the closet and sit down on the floor, surrounding by Ianto’s scent and the feeling of his dark suits brushing against his face.

Then he wanders about, fingers trailing over the coffee maker, the mugs, the couch, the books. He tries to remember everything about Ianto. He doesn’t notice the simple silver-framed photograph until he nearly knocks it over as his hand runs across his shelf. It’s in exactly the right spot that Ianto could lie on the couch and stare at it. The corners and sides are tarnished as if it’s been picked up and rubbed a lot.

He stares intently at the photograph. He remembers that day. A happy, relaxed day before all hell broke loose once again. The team had gone out to eat for lunch, and then he and Ianto had wandered about the city, talking, laughing, just living, learning about each other. Tosh had taken the photo when she’d met them outside. She’d grinned and told them they looked like they were glowing. Jack hadn’t told it was because they’d made out like teenagers on a street corner, grinning and flushed as they ran to an alleyway to finish what they’d started, then stayed leaning against each other, forehead to forehead, breathing synched, hearts beating in time, as they stared at each other. Jack had slid his arm over Ianto’s shoulder and Ianto had put his around Jack’s waist. Jack still remembers Ianto’s fingers pressing possessively into his side, the way Ianto’s neck had been soft and warm, how he could feel a suppressed laugh tingling in the young man’s chest. Their grins had been soft and genuine. The photo was beautiful, for Tosh had taken the picture, then, without their knowledge, immediately taken another one as they turned to smile at each other.

Jack’s fingers grow white at the knuckles as he clutches the frame. The love between them is palpable even on ink on a glossy page. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t seen the photo sooner. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t told Ianto sooner. He doesn’t know why a lot of things happened. He just doesn’t know.


End file.
